My Story

“What can we gain by sailing to the moon if we are not able to cross the abyss that separates us from ourselves?” (Thomas Merton)

When I was in junior high I went to the altar at church camp to accept a “calling into ministry”. I accepted the calling with much enthusiasm; I was, in fact, already very active in my church and youth group. However, with the new calling on my life I quickly began to map out my path. Here’s how it was going to work out: I would begin with youth ministry and then after going to seminary and become a renowned scholar. From there I would begin to take on leadership positions in the local church. This would naturally lead to opportunities to become a national voice where I would be given opportunities to speak at conferences, summer camps, and be a bestselling author. It was quite a plan and I held to it well into college. Despite the arrogance associated with mapping out my own course without seeking or waiting on God, my adolescent optimism was centered on serving God from my youth. I am sorry to say that my testimony doesn’t begin with being down and out. I was never at the end of my rope or on the verge of despair. My family life was and is good. I was a good kid with good friends. And I knew God’s love from a very early age. My testimony begins with me being “good.” Not the kind of good that comes from God, but the kind of good that comes from being religious, well trained, and dogmatic. As someone who appreciates the necessity of spiritual development, I understand that all maturity must be dogmatic at some point. But my situation goes beyond normal zeal for missions or evangelism. My zeal came from the insidiousness of institutionalization. I realize that these are strong words, but still very true. I was committed to the organization of church and the culture of Christianity far more than a recipient of grace who’s desire to serve was birthed out of obedience and the Spirit of God.

Despite what is apparent to me now as self-destructive, the paradigm worked to my favor for some time. Besides keeping me “safe” through high school and college it kept me connected to God or at least His mercy. During the critical identity development stages of my life, my identity was securely rooted in the church. However, as I began to move beyond that stage and needed something to question, I naturally questioned the self-imposed dogma that ruled my life for so long. I began to ask questions about why I believed what I believed. This, in turn, developed something that has come to shape my spiritual identity more than anything else: doubt. I doubted everything. I doubted my own ability to live up to anyone’s standards or expectations and I doubted how God could use someone like me. But I also doubted the very existence of God. I was still committed to the church and to the best of my understanding, committed to Christ, but the doctrines of my beliefs were beginning show signs of deterioration. My faith and identity in the institution and the culture surrounding it caused me to question my entire identity as I knew it. I became obsessed with apologetics and built detailed arguments for the existence of God. (I laugh at that approach now.) I was beginning to wonder that if I couldn’t trust those things which I put so much of my identity into then how could I trust my own identity? This put an exorbitant amount of pressure on the institution to meet my spiritual needs and it just wasn’t capable of carrying that burden despite its best promises. The problem, as I see it now, wasn’t that the institution was unable to meet these deep and complex needs, but that it insisted that it could. Or said plainly, the institution promised that it had the answers and could give me the direction I needed, but the direction and guidance the institution was attempting to give me was easy, palatable, and to some extent, a substitute for Christ. This is not a criticism of the church’s potential contribution toward spiritual development, but an honest assessment of the extent to which a subculture or organization’s programming can make toward an authentic relationship with Christ. What I was plainly ignorant to is that growth comes from God. He often uses the institution as a vessel for this renewal, but the organization’s programs, social networks, and ministry model can never become a substitute for a genuine relationship with Christ. Increased participation in an organization’s culture couldn’t replace the need for active partnership with Christ in my spiritual maturity.

However, I took my first professional church ministry position while I was a junior in college. Despite the fact that I had come to believe that the institution’s approach to spiritual development was seriously flawed, I resorted to organizing my youth ministry the same way that I had always known it to be. The ministry position was part time and, in all truth, it was a great experience. It was in a small church in a small neighboring town. I drove forty five minutes two times a week to lead bible studies during the week and Sunday activities. I had very limited exposure to church administration and politics and, due to the enjoyable experience and the support of a pastor who was very encouraging and supportive, when I graduated, I took a full time position in a much larger church in the same area, but a larger town. The church where I became youth minister had gone through a lot of turmoil with the previous youth minister leaving to start his own church while taking many of the youth and adults with him. I spent more than two years there before I began to succumb to the fatigue and existential angst that I hoped would come later than sooner. The opportunities for genuine ministry and friendship were overshadowed by what felt to me as politics and personal agendas that were entrenched in the fundamental organization of the church. It was at that church that I also first started developing relationships with a prolific organization of pastors. Through these new relationships with other professionals while attempting to navigate the political landscape of my own church, I began to question the whole profession of ministry. In retrospect I can see that many of the problems I faced were due to my own inexperience. I did many things wrong and was not prepared for the amount of work it would take to develop the program the way it needed to be developed. But I can honestly say, while I was there, I got a taste of a reality which forever changed me. As I saw it then, I was exposed to an organization (not the people, but the paradigm) that was more focused on success than offering genuine ministry. This was particularly frustrating because I knew many in the church leadership and congregation wanted to experience Christ in radical ways. When I left I was so exhausted I vowed to never work in a church again.

I went back to work on a graduate degree in Educational Psychology. During that time I worked part time in ministry positions, but was able to distance myself from the organization. I also met my wonderful wife who has been a partner with me in this journey. After I graduated from my master’s program, I was offered a job as a college minister in a very large, wealthy and influential church. I was reluctant to take the job because I was fairly jaded by the idea of large, wealthy, and influential churches by this point, but I saw a potential I couldn’t get past. This church was capable of great ministry that reached deep inside the structure and far beyond the walls of the church. It was located downtown, allowing it the opportunities to minister to the poor and outcast. It was rooted in tradition, which allowed it the opportunity to offer a very counter cultural form of spiritual formation. And it had money and powerful people who attended, which gave it the opportunity to stretch the ministry to every corner of the city. I accepted the job focusing on what could be. I spent more than three years there with times of great “success” and times that were not so impressive. I was allowed to do what I felt God calling me to do as long as it produced the results that were broadly accepted by the church paradigm. For the first couple of years the direction I felt the ministry going did produce results that made people happy. However, during the third year I felt a strong calling to take the ministry to a deeper level. The numbers crashed, but for awhile the ministry got better. The unwavering support I previously had was gone. Eventually, the ministry began to suffer as well. Many of the students attending struggled with comparisons to other college ministries that were enormous productions that we just couldn’t compete with even if we wanted to. I was struggling as well at the church with issues that went beyond my scope of influence within the college ministry. For example, disagreements with church leadership regarding the purpose of ministry and program level questions regarding the true impact of what we could offer our congregation. More poignantly, my own church paradigm was changing and I couldn’t determine how to align what I was coming to believe with how I approached and participated in institutional ministry. By the time I left the church my admittedly cynical description of the church was that it was simply a country club with moral bylaws which were only expected during Sunday morning worship. However, more generously I would suggest that I was becoming aware that, for the most part, the institutional influences on church which valued organizational growth and success, promoted the establishment of political structures within the organization, and supported a cheaper form of grace than I desired were far too embedded to support healthy spiritual development.

In addition to struggling with the institutional influences of what I still considered to be my calling, I was going through seemingly unrelated life changes. Not only did I begin my doctorate work in higher education, I also had two sons. The oldest was born with severe medical problems which required numerous surgeries and therapy. It was as I dealt with these stressors while still on staff at the church, especially with my son, that I quickly learned I was not much more than paid help. The church, while full of many amazing people, never seemed to see me as “one of their own”. That doesn’t mean that people were not supportive or didn’t show concern or care. But rather that they supported me as a minister and not a brother. I was separate in a way that is still difficult for me to articulate, but in a way that many in ministry are very aware of. I honestly wasn’t hurt by this realization, simply found it to be the product of program-driven ministry. This did, however, add to the many concerns I had about that church and how it (when I speak of the church I am referring to church leadership and culture, not individuals) viewed members, visitors, and the staff. Church staff was a means to an end. That sounds incredibly critical, but this view was reaffirmed every Tuesday, at staff meetings.

At the end of three years on staff I was let go. There were a few reasons for this which added to my frustrations with the institution. Significant budget cuts needed to be made due to building an expensive and financially demanding activity center. The building was a Christian Life Center. I still find that title amusing. It was a very impressive structure though. It was large, beautiful, and a symbol of the power and respect the church felt it deserved. The building used by some in the church to provide a free meal was planned to eventually be renovated to the same scale, but years after the self indulgent Christian Life Center was finished the soup kitchen remained un-renovated and door security measures were taken seriously to keep the “street people” out of the rest of the building. I vividly remember at the high-end grand opening of the building overhearing numerous people comment about how now people would stop going to the more conveniently located competing church and start coming to this church. Additionally, I was not very successful toward the end of my time there. My fatigue and cynicism were negatively affecting my ability to support the church the way I should have. I had ideas to reinvigorate my ministry, but they just wouldn’t pan out as I couldn’t find the energy to get students excited about them. And finally, there was a growing conflict between me and the senior pastor regarding what I can only quickly describe as a fundamental disagreement on the definition of Christian ministry and the role of the church. This disagreement was usually indirectly tied to the building campaign, but at times it was directly tied to the building campaign. My frustrations with exploiting the congregation, misuse of the pulpit, and using small groups for fundraising strategies was the focus of the church as it tried to recoup the losses it took on the building. This focus determined what would and would not be important to the church for years. What was already a very institutional church was now becoming an embarrassment. I was not resentful about being fired, though. I knew my time there was up. I simply couldn’t be what that church wanted me to be. In the time I spent there I met great people who were seriously seeking a deeper intimacy with Christ, but I was tired and needed out. My entire spiritual life had become more about the problems I saw in that church than anything else. I was becoming increasingly cynical and unable to enjoy basic Christian conversation. Despite not having a job, not being there anymore was the happiest I had been in years. And again, I swore off professional ministry forever.

I know not all churches are the same as the ones that I have been a part of, but each of my experiences (and there are more than the ones mentioned here), with the exception of my simple part-time youth ministry experience, resulted in me swearing off working in the church forever. Each of these churches held the institution above ministry. Each of these churches was willing to exploit its members’ genuine desire for spiritual guidance and comfort to meet church growth goals. And each of these churches, despite God’s obvious presence and work He did within individuals, for the purposes of building the institution, taught people to exploit God’s name in return. Again, I know not all churches are the same as the ones I have been a part of, but the more I talk to different people in ministry, the more I believe that most churches are like the ones I have described. I listen to minister after minister talk about the same issues I have with a sense of burnout and exhaustion. I celebrate that there are churches throughout the world that are enjoying faithful, obedient ministry who are able to perceive accomplishments and failures as blessings from God. I take great joy in listening to ministers and church members who are participating in ministry founded on integrity discuss how God is working in and through them. And I believe that despite the institutional influences that are at some level in every church, God continues to use those who genuinely seek Him to do great things. But I am becoming increasingly aware that God is doing something new in the organization of the Kingdom and that many are leaving the church or focusing on their small groups and Sunday school classes for community. I am becoming increasingly aware that despite the enthusiasm of many within the church that the enthusiasm is more about celebrating church growth than Kingdom growth. And I am becoming increasingly aware that many who speak of their church with fondness are lost and frustrated in their spiritual journey falling into the same trap I once did: trusting on the promises of the church to rescue them from struggle and sin.

Despite what you might think by this point, my posts are not going to be an attack on the church. In fact, I believe the church could accomplish much good for the Kingdom if it is willing to make significant changes and reevaluate its role and identity. There is a good chance that at some point I will reengage the church and possibly at the professional level. But four things are becoming increasingly clear. (1) The church is for church people. (2) There are fewer church people every year. (3) Plenty of people are active in churches that are not maturing in their faith. (4) And finally, it is often the church that prevents these people from maturing in their faith. But this blog is actually not about the church at all. It is about my experiences as a person who for his entire life was actively involved in the church and the Christian culture who came to realize that despite the constant talk about the emerging church in the postmodern world, little was actually emerging. New formats and cultures were developing, but the conversations were the same. If anything was emerging, it was not much more than the organization of church. People for sure weren’t emerging. It was assumed that the emerging church was more relevant to the postmodern world and that because people were drawn to the emerging church because it reflected postmodern values that the church somehow was creating new levels of Christian discipleship. Don’t get me wrong. The emerging church structure is very appealing in many ways and has ignited a passion for Christ in new and exciting ways for many people, but what emerging church looks like in most places is simply throwing some bean bag chairs around the room and putting in a coffee shop. This isn’t going to help people emerge to new levels of growth and understanding. It may create an environment more favorable for intimacy for a select few, but the promises of renewal are greatly exaggerated.

However, much of the literature from within the church, but mostly from outside of the church has begun shaping me into something very different than I ever imagined. Naturalism and post-structuralism, for example, have been shaping my views on theology, psychology, sociology, and philosophy more than anything had ever shaped it before. I am beginning to see the world, the church, and my faith in new, exciting, and often frustrating ways. This blog is a series of essays that explore how I am emerging. It is not a comprehensive personal doctrine nor is it a fundamental approach toward spiritual development. This blog is a series of expositions on elements of my own personal journey that are having the greatest impact of my spiritual development. It is neither a church growth handbook nor more postmodern rhetoric. This is the story of a once frustrated and broken servant of the church who learned of a new way to experience the power of the Holy Spirit through community and spiritual formation. The ways I am changing, the ways I am thinking, the ways that I am engaging God are beyond any formula or model that I had ever experienced. I see that the greatest contribution of the emerging church movement is that it uses the word “emerging”, not “emerged”. My faith development is a process that I feel that I am just now beginning to grasp. I am emerging from dogma, religion, and isolation into something new. This blog is not intended to be the truth, but simply how God is working on me today. I hope that in five years when I look back on what I have written I will examine my thoughts and laugh at their immaturity. But I also hope that the things that God is doing in me today will lay a foundation for greater growth and faithfulness. And I hope that in some way my journey gives you insight into your own journey.